Dan's Secret
by fangirl2100
Summary: Dan has a secret-something he's been hiding since he was eighteen. He doesn't know why he cuts-he just does. But when Phil finds out eight years later, will it change their relationship forever? (Rated K plus for trigger warnings. If you cut and you're reading this...why?) Author's note: I deleted and re-uploaded this so it would be easier to read (hopefully)
1. Chapter 1

Dan touched my arm and I yelped. Phil cringed at the sound.

"Dan, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing…"

"Okay…" He said. But everything was wrong. Because I had just cut and I didn't want him to find out. Every time he touched my arm, I felt a searing pain. Only I couldn't tell him that. So I had to deal. He grabbed my arm again to pull me along, and this yelp was louder than before.

"Okay, Dan, seriously. Did you hurt yourself?" He asked, letting go of my arm in reflex. I didn't say anything. "Dan, I asked you a question." He grabbed my hand and began to lift my sweater sleeve up. I yanked my arm away.

"Don't." I said.

"Why not?" He asked, trying again.

"You'll regret it."

"I don't care." He held my hand in his and lifted my sleeve up. I couldn't watch, so I turned my head away. But I knew what was underneath. My arm was gushing blood from my recent cut and was oozing all over the place. I had cuts up and down, from the top of my shoulder to the bottom of my wrist.

"Dan, show me your other arm." He said calmly. I breathed heavily and looked at him, holding out my left arm to him. It was just the same, except I hadn't cut on that one for a while, so there was no oozing blood. He quietly and collectedly got up and went into the kitchen, and then his bathroom. He returned with a bowl of water, a towel, an ointment, and some bandages.

"Phil, I don't want your help." I commended, starting to walk away.

"Sit down!" He commanded forcefully. I obeyed.

"This might sting a bit." He dipped the towel in water and pressed it against my right arm.

"Holy mother of-God that smarts!" I exclaimed, trying to pull it away. He was too strong.

"How long have you been doing this?" He asked.

I breathed heavily. "Since I was eighteen."

"Why didn't you tell me? Or anyone, for that matter."

"Didn't want anyone's pity."

"Well, it's a little late for that." He said. He dipped the towel in water again and set back to work cleaning my wound. He looked up at me and really started. "Dan, what's going on?"

"Nothing, i'm good."

"Shut up and spill." He said.

"I can't do both at the same time." I responded pointedly. He glared at me.

"You know what I meant." I sighed, not wanting to give myself away just yet. He grabbed a new towel and set it back on my arm with fresh water. I screamed, and he hummed a melody. I listened closely, grateful for a distraction. It sounded like Taylor Swift.

"Taylor Swift? Really?" I asked. He shrugged, singing the lyrics.

"You'll be all right. No one can hurt you now. Come morning light. You and i'll be safe and sound…"

The song was mesmerizing when he sang it. He had a deep, gravely voice that made me think of him as a bass singer. I understood why he chose to sing that song. He was trying to calm me down and talk to me at the same time. When he finished cleaning, I had barely felt any pain. I was surprised; whenever I did it myself, there was always pain. Maybe I just needed a distraction. He put some neosporin on my recent cut and bandaged it. I didn't think there was enough bandages in the world for all of my other ones, so I told him to forget it. He just shrugged and looked at me. He remained surprisingly calm. Until he took one look at the bloody towel in his hand and started crying. It was drenched; there wasn't a splash of white. And there were two of them.

"Phil…" I hugged him and let him cry over my shoulder. I felt guilty for making him cry. I didn't want to be the reason he was sad. He was my little ray of sunshine.

"Dan, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Nothing's wrong. Shh…" I said, trying to wipe his tears away.

"Clearly something is." He said, gesturing towards the towels and swatting my hand away.

"I just...lots of things are. It would take like an hour to list everything that was wrong with me." I admitted.

He sniffled and wiped his arm across his eyes. "I've got all night." I sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

Phil sits me on the sofa with some cold medicine and a hot chocolate. Through all the comotion, I had forgotten I was sick.

"Thanks." I say. He nodds, turning on the air conditioning so I don't burn up. He finds a seat across from me.

"Loook Dan, I know you're really sick right now, but unless you feel like you'll pass out if you don't go to bed now, I expect you to spill."

"Oh, you know, i'm just really tired right now…" I lied, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work; he glared at me. I sat back in my chair, grimacing, and took a sip of hot cocoa. It was surprisingly sweet; mine always turned out a bit gritty and bitter. "Okay, well it all started when I was eighteen." I began. "I...was very hormonal…" Phil raised an eyebrow and looked like he was about to speak. "Even more so than I am now." I added, and he shrugged as if I had already acknowledged the comment he was about to make. "Um...I'm not sure how to say this...I was going through a lot. I didn't want to admit it at the time, and I certantly don't want to now, but my sexuality changed...a lot." He looked at me curiously.

"Dan…" He began. I cut him off.

"I know, I know, there's nothing wrong with it. But when I was eighteen, I didn't really know how to respond to my emotions well. Clearly." I said, gesturing to my wrists. Phil's face was grave. He sat patently, waiting for more. "'Any little thing would set me off.I would find the guy who I sat next to attractive and want to cut. I would accidenaly let it slip to one of my friends that I fancied a certain celebrity and want to cut. I would stare at a guy as he passed me in the hallway and want to cut. I never actually did it at school; I wasn't thick, and I knew I would just get caught. but I would want to so badly that sometimes it would feel like agony waiting for my parents and brother to be gone so I could cut. Eventually it became a habit." I continued. I saw Phil cringe. "I have nothing really to be upset about now. I've really come to terms with the fact that i'm gay-" Phil looked at me, surprised. I shrugged it off. "But at one point it kind of became an unshakable addiction, close to alcoholism. I was really happy, I am happy-" I reasured him. "But I just can't stop. And I don't know why." I concluded. He sighed.

"Dan, I wish you would have told me. Or anyone, really. It's never good to keep these things to yourself, _especially_ if it involves self harm. I can definately relate to the sexuality thing-" I cut him off.

"Wait, really?" He blushed.

"Lately i've been thinking that i'm bisexual. I just don't know yet." I smiled, leaning back in my seat.

"Sorry, force of habit. Continue." He nodded.

"Anyway, I think-no, I _know_ \- that there are lots of people out there who feel the same way. Maybe not to your extreem, but still." He said. "I think you are in love with somebody." He finished. I stared at him, taking a sip of my drink.

"What?" I asked.

"You said that you wanted to cut when you were younger because you felt attracted to a guy. I've learned from mistakes that actions don't change." He continued. "If you're wondering why you can't stop cutting, there's your answer. You're not happy, Dan. If you were you wouldn't be cutting. Your breain just hasn't accepted it yet." I thought about that for a minute, trying to think if I liked anyone. Nobody came to mind. And then Phil came flashing past my thoughts. Images of him around me when we were younger. Images of us performing at Vidcon and Playlist Live and TATINOF. Meeting him for the first time. Us moving in together and exploring Manchester. And then I realized; I _was_ in love with somebody. And he was sitting in right front of me.


	3. Chapter 3

Phil threw away all of my razors. He wanted to help me so badly, and I couldn't deny him. I told him where I hid everything and instantly regretted it. I didn't know what to do with myself. I paced around my room, feeling the urge to cut. I felt so restless, just knowing that they were lying in our bin. I tried to go to sleep; it didn't work. I tried to play Halo; my mind was still restless. Finally I gave up, changing into my pjs and walking into Phil's room. It was late, but he wasn't asleep. He lay in his bed with his laptop across his lap, mindlessly browsing the Internet.

"Hey Dan. Are you okay?" He asked.

"I can't sleep." I admitted. He shut his laptop and set it on his nightstand.

"Would you like to sleep with me tonight?" He asked. _In what way?_ My mind wondered. I mentally slapped myself.

'Please?" I asked. He nodded, scotching over to the other side and motioning for me to lie next to him. I smiled and complied as he shut the light off, shifting over to his side.

"Good night." He almost whispered.

"Good night." I replied.

I was well aware that my heart was beating a mile a minute. I stared up at the ceiling in the dark for a good half hour, wondering how my mind hadn't registered my crush before now. I couldn't like Phil. We were just good friends. Best friends. And he wasn't even sure if he was bisexual yet. There was no way I was going to tell him anytime soon. I didn't want to force that on him after he'd been so helpful. But the longer I kept it to myself, the longer I wanted to reach into our bin and fish out my razors. I needed the closure, but I couldn't ask if he liked me. What was I going to do?

I had a meeting to go to today, so I drove over to the conference hall and watched a presentation. I wished another Youtuber were there to keep me entertained, because I was bored out of my mind. It wasn't the presenter's fault; as a procrastinator, I never liked to sit down and do the same activity for more than five minutes. Except when I played video games. I could Skyrim for hours.

I concluded that being bored was bad for me. When I was bored, my mind wandered. And today, I found myself thinking of Phil. And when I thought of Phil, the old voice in my head told me to cut. I tried to repress the thoughts, but I just couldn't. Especially after he texted me.

"Hey Dan, I know you're in a meeting right now, but afterwards I want to talk. Soon."

I stared at my phone and considered dropping everything and just driving home right then. But he would be upset to find out that I had cut my meeting. I would have to wait to find out what he wanted.

I came home to find Phil pacing the floor as I had last night.

"Phil, are you okay?" I asked. I was glad that I could help him with something instead of the other way around.

"I don't know." He said. "I don't know anything anymore."

"Phil, what's wrong? I asked in response. He looked at me and breathed heavily.

"I can't tell you."

"Well, then why did you text me saying you wanted to talk?"

"Because I need to tell you something, but I can't." He admitted.

"I'm your best friend. You can trust me."

"I just don't know how you'll react. And I know you're really flustered and confused right now, and you're probably not in a very good place as far as emotions go, but it's killing me and-"

"Phil, just tell me." I begged, grabbing his arm to stop him from pacing. He looked at me nervously.

"I can't." He whispered.

"Please." I replied. He stared at me for a minute and stepped a bit closer to me. My heart rate increased. _Stop it already,_ I willed it, but it iignored me. I waited for him to say something, but instead he kissed me.


End file.
